


Three Blind Mice

by Let_bijohns_be_bi_johns



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drug Use, Drugs, Gen, Johnlock - Freeform, Marijuana, Organized Crime, Platonic Male/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Let_bijohns_be_bi_johns/pseuds/Let_bijohns_be_bi_johns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock receives a letter, a case follows.<br/>Three blind mice. Three blind mice.<br/>See how they run. See how they run.<br/>They all ran after the farmer's wife<br/>Who cut off their tails with a carving knife<br/>Did you ever see such a sight in your life<br/>As three blind mice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Blind Mice

**Author's Note:**

> So this took me ages but hey! Six hours ain't nothing, hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

Sherlock lay in his usual spot on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, a nicotine patch on his forehead. Thinking about a case they'd cracked recently, it was really beginning to puzzle him.

The Day Before

Sherlock padded through from his room fully dressed with his dressing gown on. He yawned and scratched his head, the raven curls that resided there messy and slept on.   
"Morning" John said, sipping at his tea.  
Sherlock's brow furrowed and waved a hand dismissively at him, curling up in his chair, his phone buzzing with a text.

Letter for you at the Yard, marked urgent. GL

Sherlock muttered at his phone and got up, exchanging his dressing gown for his coat. He hadn't slept for a while and he'd slept twelve hours and he felt worse for it.  
He mumbled something obscure at John about going to the Yard and letters before fleeting off. John rubbed his temples and sat back in his chair, slipping out his secret porn magazine stash.  
"Its my day off" He mumbled, opening a magazine, almost having a heart attack when Ms. Hudson scolded him from the doorway.

Sherlock hailed a cab and waited for the black car to come to a halt when something caught his eye.  
A young boy watching him with a radio in his hand, to most people it would look like he was seeing how far away his friend could get before their radios didn't work. But the radio this boy had was long range and cost over £400. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him before slipping into the cab, deciding to leave it.

When he arrived at Scotland Yard, Sherlock sulked up to Greg's office and slumped into a chair.   
Greg offered him a coffee and handed him the letter.  
"Stoned?" Greg asked.  
"Just woken up" Sherlock muttered, sipping at his coffee.  
"Ah... Hows John?"  
"Content with his magazines"  
Greg snorted, he was the one who had found them in a drugs bust.  
"He's off work for a while" He murmured.  
"Ah... Well any how, have a case for you"  
Sherlock perked up at that and looked hopefully at him.  
"Three bodies found at Waterloo"  
"Three... I'm assuming they're with Molly?" Sherlock asked, Greg nodded and handed him the notes.

Sherlock fled Scotland Yard and got a cab to Saint Bartholomew's, almost diving into Molly's bosom as he entered the morgue.  
"The three dead people?" He asked, bouncing slightly.  
"Oh... Um, yeah" She said, moving over to unzip the three body bags. Sherlock looked at them all and took his time about it.  
"They where all drowned... But all of them had their eyes hacked out" Molly said quietly as Sherlock went about inspecting them.  
"Any identification?" He asked as he closely observed their state.  
"Non, the dental records are still going through" She murmured.  
Sherlock stood back and looked at the three corpses, he couldn't find anything to link them with, two males and one female. How utterly odd.  
"They are random... They gotta be" Molly murmured, looking at her clip board.  
"They aren't, they're connected... But I don't know how." He said quietly, shifting to look at splatters and marks on them.  
"The woman was at Marble Arch" He said, motioning to the green smear on her ankle.  
"But... That's off algae... She was in a river... Its off the river" Molly said.  
"Algae grows on marble and the way its smeared... You found her this morning, correct?" He asked, Molly nodded.  
"This is from... At least lunch time yesterday, the discolouration... She brushed a ledge as she posed for a photo, this isn't from being dumped in a river" He said, moving onto the first male.  
"Oxford Circus Tube Station, dark red paint flake under his fingernails." Sherlock murmured, moving to the last body.  
"Saint Paul's Cathedral. Wax residue from a votive candle on his fingers." He said.  
"I don't understand" Molly said, slightly confused about the whole thing.  
"All on the A40" He said quietly "Was there a parade recently?" He asked.  
"No... Just the actors in the park, the Nutcracker yesterday night" She shrugged, Sherlock was stumped.  
"No, no... Have you anything they had on them" Sherlock asked, Molly nodded and pulled the three evidence bags out for Sherlock.  
"Their wallets... All I.D. was removed, but whatever money they had was left" She said. Sherlock went about looking through their wallets, pulling receipts and tickets out.  
All three had tickets to Great Portsland Street and receipts from the Masons Arms. Sherlock took off with the receipts.

Sherlock caught a cab to the pub and zipped in, leaning over the bar to ask anyone if they recognised the people in his phone, having taken pictures of them before he left the morgue. The girl behind the bar nodded, her name was on the receipts as she had served them their lunch.   
"Do you know where they where going?" Sherlock asked, she nodded.  
"They left a poster, Regents park, there was a play last night" She murmured, digging about under the bar, in the bin, handing him the poster. Sherlock looked at it, it was the play Molly was talking about, the nutcracker.  
"Thank you" Sherlock said, slipping from the pub. 

It was a quarter of a mile up the road to the park, where the contemporary theatre group had performed. He looked about for a while and found nothing, the odd end of a joint in the grass, to be expected. 

He gave up and went back to the flat and put his letter on the desk, opening it, pulling the letter out.  
Mr. Holmes,  
Three blind mice. Three blind mice.  
See how they run. See how they run.  
They all ran after the farmer's wife  
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife  
Did you ever see such a sight in your life  
As three blind mice?

Sherlock blinked at it for a minute and pushed it aside, pulling his laptop out, looking up the LCDT and their recent play.  
He found a video of a piece where they where dancing and singing, Sherlock made a face and shut the laptop.  
"John I'm stuck" Sherlock muttered, poking his sleeping flatmate. John didn't wake, didn't surprise him, John slept like a log. He snored and rolled over, continuing to sleep.   
Sherlock shook his head, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket.

Dental records came in ~MH

Okay, I'm coming. -S

Sherlock arrived at Barts morgue twenty minutes later and followed Molly to look at the records.

Name: Ashley Bairns  
M/F  
15 May 1990

Name: Craig Bolam  
M/F  
11 Feb 1987

Name: Dean Ebbs  
M/F  
1 Aug 1995

Sherlock thought, Ashley 24, Craig 27 and Dean 19. How on earth could they know each other?  
Molly smiled at him as he rushed past to use her computer.   
"Kessy6, really Molly?" He muttered, setting about looking them up, he found them on facebook, they all had the same likes, dislikes. They all took drama for GCSE and attended a local drama group. Sherlock bounced up and got a cab back to Baker Street.

John was sat eating a sandwich, watching the news on his laptop. Sherlock promptly plucked it from his lap and searched the LCDT again, he could plainly see the three in the group shot on the homepage.  
John whined at him, getting up to retrieve the laptop.  
"Do you mind?"   
"Course not"  
John shook his head and snatched the laptop off him. Sherlock grumbled at him and shifted over to use his own laptop.  
"Why are you looking at the contemporary dance theatre website?" John asked.  
"A case" Sherlock murmured, getting up to flee off again.  
"I'm coming" John said, getting up, pulling his own coat on as he followed.  
"thought it was your day off"  
"It is"

Sherlock grinned at him as they walked, hailing a cab to the Theatre Royal in the hay-market where the group rehearsed.  
The group where in full swing rehearsal and it was clear people where missing from the scene they where doing, Sherlock hummed.  
"Three dead, died after or before their performance in Regents Park, not sure which, found in Waterloo drowned with no I.D." he said to John who was rocking on his heels.  
John nodded as the leader of the group approached.  
"Hello... Can I help?" She asked.  
"Yes hello... We're here about Ashley, Craig and Dean" Sherlock said with a smile.  
"Ah yes, they're not here today... They performed last night though" She said.  
"Yes we saw, brilliant actors, me and my husband are wondering if you new where they went after the performance, we never got to say hello or tell them how much we adore them" Sherlock said, John blinked, husband is a new one. The woman grinned at them.  
"Yes, I believe they got the bus that takes the A4200 rout, goes through Holborn, I believe" She said.  
"Thank you so much" Sherlock said with a smile.  
"Thanks" John said with a nod of his head, following the quickly retreating Sherlock.

"They got to Waterloo Station" Sherlock said hailing a cab.  
"What, how do you know?" John asked.  
"The youngest, Dean, he had pigment on his nails, paint, the bus stops have all been re-done, the last places to have been painted, the last to have wet paint was the Waterloo area, around the station area, so, he fell into the road, into the yellow paint. Pushed or..." He waited for John to finish the sentence off.  
"Intoxicated" John finished, Sherlock nodded, slipping into the cab, noticing a boy, the second time that day, he shook his head and ordered the cab to Waterloo Station.

When they arrived Sherlock ran onto the road and inspected the yellow paint, finding a hand print in the thick, dried paint, he stood and nodded to John. When he returned to the path he stood facing the station, looking for security cameras whilst John stood beside him, facing the other way.  
"So husbands?" John asked.  
"Mm... She likes gay romances, finds them more appealing than heterosexual romance" Sherlock said with a smirk. John chuckled and shook his head. Sherlock turned to look over the road, spotting a pastel blue doorway with two people smoking in it. He crossed the road to them.  
"Uh... Hi?" One asked, slightly annoyed that Sherlock had approached them, Sherlock quickly deduced he was an art student and decided he was useless and looked at the other beside him, definitely drama.  
"Hi... Ashley... Ashley told me that she missed you at her performance" Sherlock said, putting on a façade. The boy... Girl... No boy... Reacted.  
"She saw me last night..." He said, raising a brow as Sherlock took in a deep sniff. They had done marijuana in the last twentyfour hours.  
"She was seriously mashed when she got to mine last night" Sherlock said, nodding sadly.  
"Oh... Well then..." He said, suspicious of Sherlock.  
"But she did want me to ask you where she went from here?" Sherlock asked. The boy nodded.  
"She went to where Belvedere and Chichely Road meet" He shrugged "Meet someone"   
"Thanks, bye" Sherlock said, jogging over the road to John.  
"The eye" He said, slipping into another cab with his comrade.

When they reached the London eye, Sherlock insisted they look down the back streets, finding nothing he decided to ask someone for the local drug dealer, having got her address, Johanna Street, above a bar. 

It took a few goes but a man opened the door.  
"Hi... We're looking for Ashley Bairns?" Sherlock asked.  
"Oh... Aye the blonde lassie that buys off Linda" He said in a deep, Geordie accent.  
"You know where she is?" Sherlock asked, John fidgeting behind him.  
"Aye, me wife took her and two laddies 'yem" He said, also translatable as 'yes, my wife took her and two other boys home'.  
"Oh... So you are-" Sherlock was cut off by the man.  
"I'm the farmer" He said, nodding his head. Sherlock nodded as he spoke.  
"Where is your wife now...?" Sherlock asked.  
"A deal with... A sponsor..." He said, choosing his words as wisely as he knew.  
"Can you tell me roughly where?" Sherlock asked, the man's jaw twitched, his lips going to form the letter B but he stopped.  
"Nay where I know, try across the river" He said with a nod, closing the door hastily.  
Sherlock turned towards the road again, John following.  
"So where next?" John asked.  
"Blackfriars Bridge." He said flatly.

After yet another cab ride they where standing on Blackfriars bridge looking about, John was taking in the scenery, looking up at the Shard.  
"Did you ever see such a sight in your life?" John asked, shading his eyes as he looked up at the big glass building.  
"*Have you ever seen such a sight, John" He said with a raised brow, spotting some graffiti on a bin. 'Romeo' somehow the Shard and the name Romeo seemed to connect. Sherlock retreated into his mind palace.  
A fox at the top of the Shard called Romeo.  
"JOHN YOU GENIUS!" Sherlock yelped kissing John smack on the lips before running towards the Shard.  
"I am?" John asked, a little dumbfounded for a second before following him.

After a good few minutes bobbing and weaving alleys and dingy back streets they reached the Shard.  
"So you gonna tell me how I'm a genius then?" John asked.  
"Romeo is Moriarty, Moriarty is the sponsor and Romeo is the fox that lived on he top floor of the strand." He said, John hadn't caught his conversation with the 'farmer'.  
"So..." John asked.  
"The man who hates me and the woman who killed those kids is up here" Sherlock said, pulling John inside, into an elevator. After a minute they where almost at the top, they just had some stairs to climb.  
"I'm calling the police then." He said as they climbed.  
"Don't, I texted Greg" Sherlock said as he reached the top, looking about. John nodded and followed Sherlock round, catching sight of a large woman in an ill fitting tracksuit. Sherlock approached from behind and stood, staring ahead for a moment.   
"How much did he give you?" Sherlock asked, the woman jumped.  
"Couple thousand" She muttered.  
"Worth it?" Sherlock asked, observing the knife she was reaching for.  
"Not really... So... Mr Holmes, is it?" She asked, turning to face him, not bothering with the knife, forgetting she was cornered.  
"Indeed, Linda" Sherlock said with a curt nod.  
"Now if you would excuse me, I have a deal going on at Waterloo station I should be attending" She said, attempting to leave, John blocking her.  
"Mm, not quite. Try Scotland Yard" He said with a smile, she growled at him and attempted to run off, the sight of Greg with a gun behind them stopping her.  
"Linda Rochester, I'm arresting you on suspicion of triple murder, you have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can and will be used against you as evidence in a court of law" Greg said as a police officer rushed over and cuffed her.  
"What about the drug dealing?" Sherlock asked with a risen brow.  
"Oh that too?" Greg said snarkily as he helped pull the woman up, Greg thanked the two and said he'd do the paperwork later himself.

Sherlock grinned at John as they watched the sunset from the top of the Shard, John looked at him and grinned.  
"What?" He asked with a slight chuckle.  
"They played mice in the nutcracker" He said with a snort, John snorted too.  
"Better than nothing I suppose" He chuckled as the last of the pink and orange began to fade into a dusty, greyish-blue colour.  
"Cuppa when we get home?" Sherlock asked.  
"Definitely" John said.

Present

Sherlock stood and rummaged about on his desk, finding his letter.   
Mr. Holmes  
Three blind mice. Three blind mice.  
See how they run. See how they run.  
They all ran after the farmer's wife  
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife  
Did you ever see such a sight in your life  
As three blind mice?

Sherlock grinned at the letter having finally figured it out.  
After a moment he frowned, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Hello, do you really have to call me, Greg?" He muttered.  
"Three young boys have been taken into hospital, their eyes gouged out and their hands blown off" Greg said, Sherlock stood for a moment in silence.  
"The boys that where following us... 'As three blind mice?' they saw everything we saw..." Sherlock said.  
"What...?" Greg asked.  
"Nothing, night Greg" Sherlock said, hanging up.


End file.
